By The Book
by Bammshee
Summary: Swerve offers to help Ultra Magnus out as all his knowledge of interfacing comes from a book.


There was supposed to be something magical about the first kiss, Ultra Magnus did not agree. When he eventually tried it, he learned that the whole experience was horribly awkward and over-rated. His mouth was too big and his partner's, too small. This wasn't going to work. But he tried anyway. Wet metal slipping over wet metal, making a little bit of a mess and an odd sloppy sound, although his lips felt dry and uncomfortable.

"Wait." Swerve was pressing at his shoulders.

It was a little embarrassing to admit that, because of the restrictions of the Ultra Magnus armour, there were many things common to the Cybertronian way of life that Minimus Ambus had seldom experienced. Now, with the Tyrest Accord abolished Minimus Ambus found himself indulging in a lot of things he previous dogmatic self wouldn't have even entertained the idea of.

It started quite innocently, Rung had recommended he expand on his sense of humour. That should've been simple, all mechs appreciated a good quip. But, as Ultra Magnus, making jokes did not come easily and he soon learned that the coverage of humour in his vast volumes of encyclopedias, although it was extensive, provided little insight on 'how to be funny'. So, still dressed in the Ultra Magnus armour, Minimus Ambus consulted the next best thing... and it had somehow got him into this, well, he didn't want to call it a predicament, he was engaging willingly in this after all.

Swerve had been a more than willing tutor, but how learning a few quick remarks devolved into interfacing Ultra Magnus would never understand. Although, he might have let slip that he was keen to start exploring his capacity for intimate relations as well. Swerve must have taken that as a hint.

The next evening they'd arranged to meet again, in the privacy of Ultra Magnus's hab suite. Ultra Magnus spent the time leading up to the encounter devouring relevant texts like he was cramming for an exam. Unlike his brief dabble in humour his plunge into the parameters of intercourse was deeper than his wildest fantasies. The sheer amount of volumes dedicated to fragging was overwhelming. He'd never be able to memories it all in a day no matter how hard he colour coded or abbreviated in his post-it note collection.

What made it more unsettling was that many of the most recommended texts were written and/or edited by Rung.

It wasn't that he expected to interface with Swerve tonight, he just liked to be prepared. But the more he researched the more off putting it seemed.

It was a far more sensitive topic than he'd realised. Ultra Magnus had always been viewed as prudish but he'd accepted that no two Cybertronians were the same, now he was learning that differences in interface hardware were almost considered abnormal if they deviated from the standard of a pornographic norm. It was making his systems warm. Ultra Magnus certainly didn't exhibit any of a lush buy-mech's features and this discovery stirred a nervousness in his tanks. Particularly as he was subjected to the most blatant of issues...

Just as he started delving into the possibility of there being mechs who suffered from the same affliction as him Swerve arrived and Ultra Magnus deactivated his data pad sharply.

Which led them to where they were now, crouched on the berth, Swerve reaching up to interact with him. Joined just at the lips. Until Swerve pulled back of course.

"Wait, you can just _stick it in_." Ultra Magnus viewed Swerve as the holy grail of knowledge. As the minibot elaborated with confidence certainly built from practice Ultra Magnus reached for his datapad and" - Oh! Wowowow, wow, what are you doing?"

"...taking notes."

"You _can't_ do that."

"Why ever not?" Looking puzzled Ultra Magnus let Swerve take the data pad from him. Swerve studied what he'd been reading and gusted out a kind of chortle that sounded suspiciously like a scoff.

"What the hell have you been reading?!"

Suddenly sheepish Ultra Magnus took back his data pad and carefully deactivated it. Bookmarking his last search.

"You can't _learn_ interfacing from reading. It comes naturally. There isn't any three-point plan to explosive overloads you gotta work up to it." Little stubby hands stretched up to Ultra Magnus's face plates again, beckoning him forward. Stiffly, Magnus complied. Swerve had offlined his optics, when their lips met he sighed into the connection. Magnus remained rigid, letting Swerve take control and not daring to experiment with anything he hadn't read about. Growing impatient for some action Swerve whined into the kiss and pressed forward more firmly, prodding his glossa further into Ultra Magnus's mouth, lapping behind the mech's teeth, trying to stimulate _something_. This wasn't giving him much hope for rest of their evening.

"Maaaaaaags." He whined loudly, throwing himself back, "You gotta work with me mech!"

Magnus floundered and needed to clear his airways.

"It's Ultra Magnus, Swerve..." The stern edge to his tone was filed away, Swerve was now crawling into his lap. The stark differences in their size and build was being more clear. Swerve could hardly be considered petite but compared to Ultra Magnus he was tiny, just a writhing ball of potential pleasure waiting to be tapped into.

"Okay, okay... maybe kissing just isn't your thing," Swerve's face was pinched with concern, "We...we could move on?" The proposition was made with some apprehension, like Swerve wasn't fully confident of his own thoughts. He stared down, the glow of his visor making what should be Ultra Magnus's interface panel glow.

Strangely, Ultra Magnus felt the urge to cover up.

He cleared his vents again.

"Perhaps I should umm... get the lights?"

"Yeah." Swerve said, equally distracted as he ogled Magnus's frame manoeuvring off the berth. It wasn't until Ultra Magnus was reaching for the light switch that he discovered the slight shaking his hand. At once he suspected a medical ailment.

"Uhh, I think that's normal." Swerve tried to pacify his fears, although he would've have excepted Ultra Magnus to have been daunted by anything.

Ultra Magnus was unsteadily making his way back to the berth when he abruptly paused again.

"Music." He blurted out and needed to cough away the dryness in his throat again, "There should be music in the background." He started muttering to himself as he started rifling through what Swerve discovered was a vast library of music works, both native and off-world pieces. He was consulting a long list of features from the data he'd recently assimilated, it was titled "Most Recurring Mood Setting Features." and he started working through the steadily.

Turning away from his work station that was due to begin playing something bluesy and gentle Ultra Magnus turned to Swerve and asked,

"Would you like some high-grade"- Swerve's reply with cut off by the music. A racket came blasting out of the sound system. Ultra Magnus couldn't ever recall turning his music up so loud. He pounced on the work station and furiously decreased the volume so that it fell in the bracket of background noise. When he turned back to Swerve expecting an answer to his previous question. He looked visibly stirred and his fuel pump thudded hard.

"Are you trying to get my drunk, Sir."

Ultra Magnus's optics flashed with concern.

"Certainly not, I've read that high grade can"-

"It was joke." Swerve, the mech that never stopped grinning, had to force a smile, "Oh boy." He muttered in a breath, "Why don't you just come back here and we can... y'know."

Ultra Magnus wavered in the middle of the room. There was still things left incomplete on his list...

"Sir?"

Ultra Magnus had also read that interface was also supposed to be spontaneous... he supposed he could abide by that. Grudgingly, he returned to Swerve and the berth, his weight made the berth bow dramatically and Swerve couldn't react in time to stop himself from slipping face-first into Ultra Magnus's crouch.

"Whoa!" He lurched back, though he hadn't been exactly pressed over Magnus's interface he had been close enough to catch a whiff of oil and grease. It was strangely alluring...

Slowly, he leaned back in, hands first this time, stroking and rubbing at Ultra Magnus's housing. Although he was aware of every component in Magnus locking with apprehension he felt small bursts of heat grow under his touch.

Ultra Magnus's vents stuttered when Swerve's fingers poked between transformation seams and fiddled with the sensitive circuits hidden underneath.

"You gunna open up for me, big mech?" Swerve glanced up and grinned broadly, maintaining eye contact even when he felt the plating fold aside under his hands. It made the smile of his face grow and grow.

This was Ultra Magnus! He was going to get to play with Ultra Magnus! Despite some trepidation, Swerve was consciously happy that he didn't have any kind of _standard_ to live up to but when he looked down the smile dropped off his face.

He'd been expecting grand, he'd been expecting exotic, he'd _really_ been expecting big! But what he got... was smooth.

Ultra Magnus was silent and so was Swerve.

He kind of wanted to touch the broad surface of nothing but... his hand hesitated and hovered.

"Uhhh, Magnus?" Ultra Magnus wasn't looking at him anymore, "I think there was a very specific reason why you haven't interfaced before and I don't think it's social awkwardness."

Then there was hissing of mechanisms. Ultra Magnus's optics had turned dark and lifeless. Swerve had to scuttle back when the Magnus armour started to unbuckled and gradually Minimus Ambus emerged.

Like a Russian Doll he stepped out of his shell twice. Then Swerve was confronted with a little green mech slightly taller than he was but much thinner. Almost like a twig. How he was capable of supporting so much weight Swerve couldn't understand.

"Wow." Was all Swerve could conjure once the process of Minimus Ambus moulting his second skins was complete.

"When Tyrest rebuilt the armour there was certain symbols he did not want the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord to represent, interfacing was one of them. So he"-

"You're tiny!" Swerve squealed over Minimus's explanation, "I mean, I knew you were small but there was so much going on at the time I didn't really get a proper look, but okay, cool, please continue." Swerve rocked back and forth on the berth, beaming. The creepy expression and being interrupted left Minimus Ambus feeling disgruntled.

Overall it would be easier without the monstrously huge armour playing a role, but Swerve had to confess himself a little bit disappoint that he wouldn't get to experience all that size and power looming above him. Not that Minimus Ambus knew what to do with is grand endowments.

It got stranger. Kissing in this form was no less awkward than it had been wearing the Magnus armour and Swerve was so used to being told to lie down and shut up it was strange to be the one making all the suggestions.

"Are... are you sure this is what you want?" Swerve asked before his hands could creep any lower.

Minimus nodded, though he was hesitant.

"Mags?" Swerve pressed for certainty.

Minimus rolled his head.

"How do you just _do_ things Swerve, how do you not think?"

"Uhh, I know you probably didn't mean that to be insulting so I'm not going to take any offence over what you say next but, umm, what do you mean?"

" You don't seem bothered by who you interface with. How'd you do it?"

Swerve nearly choked,

"Don't seem b- howmanypeopledoyouthinkI'veinterfacedwith?!" He spluttered quickly, pitch rising with incredulity.

Minimus Ambus didn't know but he'd heard the gossip even when he'd tried not to. Eager to please Swerve stalking about after hours. Swerve looked appalled to hear this.

"NO!" He bleated, quite indignantly, "No that's... I _wish_."

"Then how many mechs have you been with?"

"Wow, getting personal there." But Minimus Ambus did not retract his question. "You sure you want to know, all this talk of Exs... it's not the best for... and so what if I've retold the story a couple of times and maybe, _maybe, _eluded to it as a few separate occasions... _fine!_ One. I have slept with one person. I have slept with one person once. So I'm sorry for apparently misleadin' you, but I am _not_ the best person to consult on these..._issues!_" The was an undertone of bitterness in that confession that Swerve tried to disguise as mirth. It came a surprise for Minimus Ambus that this would be a learning experience for them both.

He shifted forward on the berth gently, hands reaching out and touching Swerve's frame with caution. Swerve mimicked the action then encouraged Minimus a bit closer before flopping down on the berth together. It was completely ungraceful, their chins bumped together awkwardly and a few apologised were grumbled and then...

"Why're you staring at me like that?" Swerve arched away. Minimus grunted.

"Eye contact is an important factor during coupling, it convey's a partner's feelings and intensity"- Minimus quoted directly.

"It looked like you were planning on murdering me!" For a mech who just expressed concern for preserving the mood he'd just succeeded in making Mimimus highly uncomfortable.

"Please, stop talking."

Swerve continued talking.

"Ooo, anxious to get down to business? Alright." He winked and the grin he gifted Minimus was deliberately wicked.

Swerve grasped Minimus's thighs and with sharp tug dragged him to the edge of the berth. Swerve repositioned himself on the floor, head dangerously close to Minimus's true interface hatch. The move had jarred Minimus slightly, he wasn't expecting rough. His mind was still boggling the action as Swerve was arranging Minimus's skinny legs round his neck.

Something hot and wet dragged over cool interface housing catching Minimus by surprise. He lurched on the berth, his aft nearly bouncing off the edge.

"What are you"- Swerve did it again, firmer, lapping over circuit seams, "S-Stop!"

"You don't like it?" Swerve looked up with a frown. He was drawing on his past experience, he'd assumed all interfacing sessions would've been much the same after that one time.

"I-It wasn't in the book!" Minimus's small hands groped blinding about the berth in search of his precious data-pad.

"Frag the book." Swerve licked again, more persistently, twisting his tongue deeper into networks of wires. Minimus bucked up, legs collapsing apart without his knowledge. But an advantage of this wasn't just that it allowed Swerve more room to work but it also provided Minimus was the space to push his data-pad down his body and into Swerve's helm.

Swerve felt the hard metal slab butt against his helm insistently, even more urgently as he worked harder.

"MAGS!"

"Please stick to the book!" To his surprise Minimus's request sounded like a sob. His thin legs were twitching round Swerve's helm.

At first unsure, Swerve accepted the datpad. Minimus Ambus had activated it on the page he'd harvested most of his information from. Swerve read over it quickly, surprised by how informative it was... and then smirked.

"You really like your words don't you **_Ultra Magnus_**." It was like the secret to success had been unveiled. The title made Minimus Ambus quiver, like the word itself spoken in that gravelly tone had mystical power over him. Minimus Ambus nodded.

"Okay then, let's have a read." Swerve skimmed a few lines then snorted before beginning in a haughty tone " There are many names for interfacing 'banging, doing the clang," Swerve chortled again, the hilarity of at all rushing at him, "S-Screwing, fragging, riding the" He squinted at the funny term, "R-Riding the pfffffffft," And he was gone, breaking down into loud, honking laughs and flinging the data-pad back at Minimus. He was too preoccupied by the spasms squeezing his tanks to notice Minimus had removed his legs from Swerve's shoulders.

"Never mind." Minius said quietly. He started to clamber back into the Magnus armour.

"Wait! Wait!" Swerve called out between wheezing breaths, "Where're you goin'?"

"Well, if you're not taking this seriously"-

"Aw come on, Mags, It's only a bit of fun!"

"It's Ultra Magnus! And it's not a bit of fun! Not for me! I...All I've had for millennia is the Tyrest accord, there was no room for _feelings_," He spat the word like it was a curse, " Now all of a sudden I'm no longer the mech I used to be and I don't like it! I have these _needs_ that I never used to have"-

"Wow, wow. Magnus. Relax. I'm sorry okay, I didn't realise this was so important to you."

"It's interfacing! It should always be important! If you'd read on a bit instead of fooling about you'd have learned that from the book!" Minimus was agitated and more than embarrassed. Unable to believe that he'd been foolish enough to consider sharing his most intimate self with the biggest blabber mouth on the ship.

Swerve was at a loss. But he couldn't let the room get too quiet.

"You're right. I guess I've never been lucky enough to meet someone who thought the same." Swerve looked down at himself, disappointed and ashamed of that he'd been so eager than one time... Before he could let himself slip down that road Swerve's head jerked up and he chirped "But hey-ho that's life and maybe now that we're both on the same page we can... y'know, make it special?"

Minimus returned to the edge of the berth cautiously, the data-pad still in his hands. He sat in front of Swerve with his legs dangling off the edge of the berth.

"Read it." He thrust the datapad back at his partner and Swerve went along with it, reading quietly to himself. It took some time, Minimus watched him carefully, aware of every time the mech's lips started to tremble. A few times Swerve drew in a deep breath preparing to launch into babble, Minimus Ambus would cut him off sharply, "Read it."

Eventually, Swerve was done. He carefully put the data pad on the ground and pushed it away from him. Minimus waited, wondering what Swerve could be planning. He wasn't normally quiet by choice.

Then the minibot leaned into his thighs softly and started peppering them with kisses that steadily eased toward Minimus's interface hatch. Along the way he nibbled and sucked, his hands accompanied his mouth's journey, dragging slowly up Minimus's legs, from his ankles, higher and higher, until he was lifting Minimus's legs onto his shoulders.

"Swerve"-

"You like rules, right? Well I got a few for you. First, you're going to tell me what feels good and what doesn't. Second, you're going to tell me when you want more and, lastly, no touching."

"Touching? Why would I - _oh!" _Swerve nipped a wire, not one Minimus was used to getting attention. He lurched forward, curling over Swerve, hands hovering madly.

"Ah ah, what did I say? Lie down, _Sweetspark._" Swerve was enjoying his time playing. Minimus Ambus was busy contemplating what logic had impelled the other mech to refer to him as something so trite as _Sweetspark?! _

His outer interface housing was pawed at experimentally, as Swerve discovered more and more ways to extract soft keens out of Minimus he grew bolder. Minimus was trying to watch what he was doing, trying to keep track, trying to learn but soon his systems started firing temperature warning at him. As Swerve continued, the warnings got more persistent and Minimus was beginning to feel the need to pant.

"T-this, um, _heat_ it's a natural part of the processor, correct?"

Swerve cringed away from the warm interface and Minimus Ambus wondered why, had he caused him pain? Was he running too hot?

"Yeah, course it is but don't say it like that, you gotta be more, '_ohhhh you're making me so hot, please let me open my panel."_

There was a sharp snap. Minimus Ambus's interface panel had rocketed open, his spike was peeping out of its neat sheath and the prim, unexplored folds of his valve were sleek with lubricant.

Minimus Ambus looked just as surprised as Swerve.

When the air wafted over his components Minimus shivered.

"Well blow my bolts I'm good!" The idiom wasn't one Minimus Ambus favoured but Swerve seemed astonishingly pleased with himself. He continued his efforts to arouse Minimus with renewed vigour.

"What are you doing no_oow?!" _Finally Minimus Ambus was lying flat on his back, he legs flopping apart reflexively. Swerve glossa was twisting into him with loud slurping sounds so lewd they brought colour to Minimus's cheeks. And then, it felt like Swerve was trying to talk _into_ him. The vibrations of his lips trembled through Minimus and he gasped. He hadn't realised his body was capable of feeling like this. Static electricity was bouncing across his neural net, error messages were cropping up abundantly. It was a little frightening. All the while a charge was building in him, Minimus closed his eyes and tried to disband it but it wouldn't budge. The energy remained as a tight ball of tension in his gut that seemed to be journeying steadily downward the more Swerve suckled on him.

Then, just as he started to acclimatise to the sensitivity of his parts Swerve pulled back. Minimus Ambus gazed down his sprawled body, optics half closed with the exhausting sensation of feeling so much. Swerve grinned back at him, his face smeared with messy fluid, when he spoke the clear solution spluttered off his lips.

"Gettin' really wet down here. You like that?"

Wet? Minimus was unaware what that meant but was too breathless to ask. Instead he nodded, and let his body arch toward Swerve like he'd forgotten his inhibitions. Without Swerve's tongue brushing over him his valve felt cold and lonely. Minimus, for the first time, wanted to reach down and scrub away the feeling but then he remembered Swerve's third rule.

"I-It felt... different."

"Good different?"

Minimus nodded again, his sights drifting away from Swerve to his spike which was straining upward: a function Minimus hadn't realised was a part of his body.

"You want more?"

"Please, continue."

When Minimus thought Swerve's mouth was going to return he was given fingers instead. Fingers had more reach than a glossa he discovered. As Swerve spread and stretched him Minimus couldn't contain his pleas. Such wanton, unrefined sounds. He struggled to comprehend that he was making them.

"What's the matter?" Swerve's fingers stopped curling inside of him. The whine of need Minimus responded with was cut short by his own hands clamping firmly over his mouth. He waited a moment to regain composure then realised his hips were still rocking helplessly against the stubby, plump digits squashed inside him and Minimus Ambus keened again.

"I just, I - I" Swerve, the devious scoundrel, rotated his fingers, "Oh Primus! I'm feeling so..." There was a word but it felt to dirty to say. Minimus bit the tip of his glossa and imprisoned the unspoken feeling knowing the pressure of it would continue to build if Swerve didn't help him release it soon.

Swerve chuckled,

"Relax, Swerve's got you."

Minimus should've found that hilarious by Ultra Magnus standards (which appeared more like stern disapproval) but then Swerve did something to his spike. Something that had never happened to Minimus before...

He swallowed it.

Minimus's fingers gripped the berth. His shaft was engulfed, bit by bit Swerve took the length into his hot, hungry mouth. His lips were still shiny with Minimus's lubricant and pulled into a taught ring around the throbbing girth.

"I... _oooh_!" Minimus tried to remember what he'd read on this in the book but the sensations pounding through his engorged, heavy equipment were too much. It felt like his mind was unraveling and Minimus squirmed on the berth, distantly aware of the fluids that had started oozing out of his valve and collecting under his rear.

There was a brief sting nearer the entrance of his valve as a third finger was introduced. Minimus moaned, unsure of what he was feeling until Swerve suddenly began stabbing him with all three fingers squashed into Minimus's snug, moist channel.

"Aha!" He gasped loudly. The electric impulses in his body springing about. When he jerked upward his spike slipped into Swerve's intake. Too deep. Swerve pulled back sharpish coughing wetly over Minimus's spike.

Minimus watched, his glaze of pleasure shattering,

"I'm sorry I"-

Swerve engulfed the spike again, his glossa prodding firmly at the tip lapping away the beads of prefluid Minimus was starting to produce. "on't ah-olo-j-ise" Apparently no one ever taught Swerve not to speak with a full mouth. Meanwhile, his fingers pressed harder and pushed deeper, finding a sensitive spot inside Minimus and focusing on it until the other 'bot was thrashing and kicking and gripping the berth hard enough to leave a mark.

"Swerve!" Minimus was quaking, he was completely overwhelmed and not sure how to cope with what he felt but overly aware of his body's desire to be pushed further and further and past the edge of this tantalising pressure that kept growing inside him, "I - I, I think I need…more?" Was that how he should propose the question? Even if he wasn't entirely sure what he was asking for.

Swerve lazily rubbed his lips up and down Minimus's smooth spike, getting slower and slower until Minimus was throwing himself against the berth in potent, raw frustration.

"_Please!_" Minimus cried, learning of new depths to embarrassment. He was crying out for something utterly appalling but he _wanted _it. This feeling of filth that seemed ingrained into his plating, he revelled in it sickeningly, he wanted to spread that feeling to every corner of his body: to grope and feel himself in ways he hadn't before in front of Swerve just to make himself seem more appealing. When Swerve's stubby spike appeared, Minimus hoped his display made his body seem worthy of plunging into.

"What did I say 'bout touching?" Swerve grinned. Minimus was rubbing his hands under and over seams where a restless charge was agitated.

"I-I…" Minimus was struggling for an excuse, the rules or repercussions of breaking them hadn't even entered his mind. How very unlike him. It was frightening Minimus, how could a few touches to some delicate equipment make him lose his morals so readily.

Swerve saw the conviction tainting Minimus's expression. Grinning, he lurched forward, too harshly, their helms collided with a clang. Minimus was jolted by surprise just as their lips met feverishly. Minimus tried to build on his knowledge of what he was supposed to do, lashing his glossa in patterns until Swerve started to laugh.

"You are really bad at that." He chuckled smiling brightly. Minimus didn't see why he would smile, Swerve's comment brought a swell of embarrassment to his spark and it showed in his EM fields.

The grin dropped off Swerve's face.

"You're upset… I can feel it in your EM fields."

Minimus started to shift with awkwardness but froze immediately when he felt Swerve's stubby spike prod into his thigh.

"Well, I just supposed that…I…I've never been bad at _anything_ before."

The self consciousness Swerve found endearing… but it was tinged by nervousness when he noticed the scuff of orange paint he'd left on Minimus's cheek where their helms had collided. He tried not to let it put him off too much.

"Well you can't be good at everything."

There came a small stroppy huff from Minimus and Swerve dared to call it cute.

"Right, now, umm, are you ready?" Minimus gave the nod but Swerve kept staring and grinning almost bashful until he started to look like he was straining to keep position.

"Swerve?" Minimus frowned, jerking the minibot back to the present.

"Sorry!" Swerve bleated, shuffling on his peds, "It's just that, I wanted to be sure you were sure and it's just that… you're awesome and"-

"Swerve!" Minimus snapped with peevish anticipation in a 'hurry-up-before-I-change-my-mind' sort of style that made Swerve jump forward, his spike sliding over the sleek folds of Minimus's valve. For a moment, Minimus's optics flickered but then he realised Swerve _still_ wasn't inside.

"Sir I… "

"What?!" Minimus propped himself up on his elbows, glaring like there couldn't possibly be anything more important that Swerve sticking his stubby spike inside the hot, clenching heat of Minimus's overly sensitive valve. Swerve tried not to let the tone of Minimus's voice deter him. Though his face plate was enflamed by embarrassment the minibot spoke with admirable determination.

"If it's not everything you hoped it would be… would you be disappointed in me?"

"_What?!_" Minimus snapped again, but as he watch Swerve worry his lip plates the edge on his voice softened, "Why would I be?"

"B-Because I'm not exactly a charmer or…or the best looking 'bot- which is fine! I mean, we can't all be the same but…" Swerve's rambling was cut up when he looked at Minimus directly and saw sympathy; not pity.

"I am certain your performance is adequate but if you're having doubts…" Minimus's gaze dropped to their engorged interface arrays, "Then the only way to improve is practice."

That brought some assurance to Swerve, he continued to sheepishly beam a grin at Minimus as he hooked the other bot's skinny legs over his waist.

"Slag, you're so fragging _wet_." Swerve's fingers intruded between Minimus's fluttering callipers again, making the mech arch off the berth as Swerve scooped out lubricant to slick up his own spike. The glisten of Minimus's valve Swerve interpreted as a seductive call and slowly, but with painstaking delight, Swerve eased into the valve.

The folds parted, Minimus felt a strange pinch and keened. That pinch grew into a sting that spread deeper and downward, all the way into his aft and his charge seemed to tangle round him with suffocating tightness. Minimus gasped,

"You doing okay?"

Minimus's chest was heaving but he nodded and revolved his hips round the intrusion that was splitting him apart.

"Oh man, this feels good! You're so tight, ah-are you feeling this? Holy-slaggin' Primus!"

Minimus didn't have the same vocal needs but he moaned encouragingly, the feeling of the spike inside him slipping deeper and deeper was so strange, but it stretched his insides delightfully and then, Swerve brushed over something mind-numbingly sensitive and Minimus's whole body went into a spasm.

"Ha-ha, you're so adorably like this. Big, scary Ultra Magnus"-

"Stop it!" Minimus barked, he was breathless, water vapour clung to his plates like a wet sheet, "AHA, I…I,"

"Alright, alright, no teasing." Swerve pulled back a fraction then thrust forward with force. Minimus Ambus bounced, hands clawing at the berth, legs squeezing Swerve's waist tight.

Swerve started throwing more weight into each thrust and Minimus's body started rising instinctually to meet the rhythm, each time their plating met with a satisfying clang Minimus's whines got a little louder.

"Good? I'm doing good right? You like that?" The pace was rising, Swerve was beginning to pant.

"_Yes!"_ and no… Minimus felt so full, stuck on a spike and nearly bursting with energy. His spark kept tumbling in his chest and it was all very daunting,

"Yeah baby! Come o - _oops."_

Like a dip in a roller-coaster Minimus's charge dipped.

Swerve spike had popped free of the greasy little valve on accident. He fumbled quickly to stick it back in.

"That's better! _phew!"_ Swerve delved deeply. Minimus Ambus's face screwed up in pleasure though his vents were roaring and warning lights kept snapping at his mind. His overload… his _first_ overload was rushing at him and he felt like he wanted to push it out of him. He needed the tense band of energy coiled round him to break. He wanted relief and it seemed like the only way to get it was…

"Please, _harder_."

Swerve's tongue was poking out of his mouth. He was bouncing of his toes as he drilled himself into Minimus in short, sharp thrusts, cleaving through the callipers each time, crashing into the sensor-laden surface at the end of Minimus's oozy valve. The slick, wet sound became more erotic to Minimus and his pants turned ragged, he didn't even mind the finger shaped dents Swerve was pressing into his hips as he focused on fragging Minimus through the berth.

Minimus's spike started to pulse hard. There was a dollop of lubricant growing at the tip and Minimus couldn't resist reaching down and pawing at it. Swerve's rules were long forgotten by Swerve himself, but the idea of breaking them did fill Minimus with a shameful sense of arousal.

He scrubbed his hand over his spike hard, trying to mimic Swerve's expert handling. Underneath his touch the engorged metal throbbed faster, the pressure in his tiny body was rising up and up and then,

"Swerve I"-

Minimus was cut off by his overload initiated by a pinch to the tip of his spike and Swerve's spike jamming deep inside him simultaneously.

The charge broke across him like a whiplash. Minimus threw himself against the berth and howled as transfluid ejaculated and released the burning pressure all over his chest.

Soon after, while his valve was still twitching and fluctuating with static electricity, Minimus Ambus was aware of something hot and thick shooting deep inside of him, striking the end of his valve and washing backward, dripping out of him along with all his sticky lubricants.

"Ooooh." Minimus moaned, utterly exhausted. His fuel pump thundering. But his afterglow was spoiled by a weight crashing on top of him.

Swerve was humming with delight, he spread his arms over Minimus and snuggled in close.

"_That_ was awesome." He beamed. Minimus approved, though he nodded sleepily. His legs were still dangling off the berth but he couldn't bare to move. Was it normal to feel this tired after an interface? He'd have to consult the book when he woke up.

"You were awesome! _We_ are awesome." Swerve continued to ramble then raised one hand, "Up top."

Minimus Ambus cracked open one tired optic and observed the hand waiting for a high-five with a dower frown.

Swerve's expectations soared when Minimus reached out to him. But instead of completing the gesture, Minimus grabbed Swerve's hand, yanked it down and dragged over his chest while turning to one-side.

There were still somethings that were beyond him.

* * *

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